


Just Sign

by PreciousTulips



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Arc Reactor Angst, Distrust, Grumpy Bucky Barnes, Hurt Tony Stark, Panic Attack, Rogue Avengers, Sokovia Accords, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve feels bad, Surgery Mention, mention of siberia, recovering Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 11:56:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21427840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreciousTulips/pseuds/PreciousTulips
Summary: Steve, Nat and Bucky return to sign the Accords in order to come home, and they notice immediately that something isn't right with Tony. He's seemingly thinner, tired and worn, his eyes are dull. It doesn't take Steve long to figure it out.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 228





	Just Sign

Steve sat in the conference room, Nat to his left and Bucky to his right. The table was glass, breakable and delicate as most things were in the Avengers compound. Bucky didn’t rest the metal arm on the table. Every other chair in the room was so violently empty, it made Steve nauseous, it made him want to throw something. There was once a time when every chair was filled, and Steve most likely ended up standing in order to offer a chair to Rhodey, or Wanda. 

Now, there was a surplus of empty seats at this table and within Steve’s presence. 

Natasha’s nails tapped against the table,  _ tap tap tap.  _ Steve nearly asked her to stop, but as he glanced over to say so, he noticed the dirt beneath her nails. He didn’t say a word to her and he let her continue to tap. 

“Stop.” It was Bucky who finally spoke up. Steve and Natasha looked his direction but they didn’t meet his eyes. Bucky’s trauma was keeping his emotions hidden, so it wouldn’t have mattered if Steve and Nat could see his expression anyways. It was always so blank, so empty. Steve hated it. 

“Stop what?” Natasha responded, equally empty, equally blank. Steve wanted to shake them both. 

“Tapping. It sets my teeth on edge.” Again, empty. A blank slate of a human being. A ghost of the man he used to be. 

“Oh. Sorry.” Nat snapped back at him, her eyes filling with rage, with irritation. “I wouldn’t be tapping if Stark was on time like he said he’d be. How late is he, Steve?”

A sigh. Steve’s shoulders fell. He didn’t want to answer that question. “I don’t know, Natasha.”

“Well what time is it-”

“I don’t know.”

Nat’s eyes narrowed as she looked Steve up and down, turning her luxurious swivel chair to look straight at Steve’s face, the eyes of a spy doing their job. It wouldn’t take too much effort, Steve suspected, as he wore most of his emotions on his sleeve anyways. Steve was tired, he was over this, he wanted to come home. That was the main reason he contacted Tony, was because he wanted to come home, and if that meant he had to sign some stupid document, then so be it. 

Now, Steve didn’t mean home in the sense that he wanted to sleep in the room meant for him at the Avengers compound where there was a siren and flashing lights every time the world needed him. He didn’t want to be in a place where Fury would glare at him with his one eye until Steve complied and did whatever someone else wanted him to do. 

Steve wanted to go  _ home _ , he wanted to go home to Brooklyn, to the neighborhood he grew up in. Where he and Bucky could work on regaining memories and making it through one night without debilitating flashbacks. Where they could maybe read, or Steve could draw again, and they could watch movies and breathe for once. Like they used to. That’s all he wanted, that’s all he hoped for. 

“You don’t care? Steve, he told us to be here at a certain time, told us it was the most important part of all of this, and he’s not here.” She griped, and Steve shook his head again. He glanced at Bucky for support, for understanding, for anything. Bucky wouldn’t meet his gaze. 

“No, Nat, I don’t care.” Steve looked back to her, expression probably just as tired as he felt. His  _ bones  _ were tired. His brain was tired. “I just want this over with, I’m okay with Tony being late. I just want to go home.”

Beside him, he heard Bucky heave a soft sigh. Hopefully that meant Bucky wanted the same thing. Maybe he wanted to go home too. The last time Steve had tried to ask him, BUcky had just given this look up deep-rooted pain, and Steve never asked again. 

“He could at least be on time.” Natasha murmured beneath her breath, though she wasn’t stupid enough to think that Steve and Bucky couldn’t hear her. 

It was nearly half an hour that Steve spent sitting there and listening to Natasha tap the table. Every now and then, Bucky would clench and relax his fist, the sound of metal sliding against metal until Steve was left in silence again. 

Finally,  _ finally,  _ the door opened, and Tony Stark walked in. Tony stark in all his glory, looking worse than Steve had ever really seen him before. He didn’t mean that Tony was covered in blood worse than he’d seen him, or he was more battle worn than Steve had ever seen. No, just plain old Tony Stark looked more  _ weary _ than Steve had ever seen him. 

Tony’s chest heaved like he couldn’t take a full breath, his cheeks were sullen and grey, his gaze lazy and shallow. He took deliberate steps like it wasn’t as easy as it used to be, he seemed to be actively holding his own body up, like his skeleton was straining to hold up the weight of his body. 

The biggest difference that Steve noticed, was Tony’s clothes. He wore a simple band T-shirt, as always, but this time his shirt hung loose on his frame. It looked like Tony had lost so much weight, like he was swimming in that T-shirt. 

“You’ve lost weight.” Nat said it first, attractive Tony’s tired gaze as he moved to the end of the table to sit himself down. Tony placed a briefcase on the table, pulling out three packets of cream-colored papers titled  _ The Sokovia Accords. _

“What? No I haven’t” Tony responded, and Steve hadn’t heard that voice in so long. Tony’s voice was rough now, like he hadn’t had a drink of water in days. Like he’d been screaming for hours and then woke up the next day with only a raspy piece of his own voice. 

“Your shirt is like a tent on you.” Nat pointed out, and Steve nearly snapped at her to shut up. The irritation was unlike him, all he wanted was for this meeting to be done and over with. 

“It’s supposed to be like that.” Tony grunted back, searching through the briefcase for a pen. Steve hoped he didn’t bring the pen he’d been offered to sign the papers so long ago. 

“It doesn’t  _ fit you _ -”

“Why is this necessary.” Tony snapped back, the dullness in his eyes growing sharp for a split second before they lost their intensity again. Nat stayed quiet, but her lips pursed and her eyes flitted up and down Tony’s frame, physically asking the question she wasn’t saying. “I just got out of surgery, they didn’t want anything touching the bandages too much. Had to get bigger size or else the doctors would’ve made me come in a disgusting hospital gown.”

Tony said those words like it was natural, like it was a part of his everyday life, like Steve wasn’t sitting right there riddled with worry over the man sitting in front of him. Like he hadn’t said anything at all about surgery, Tony started speaking again. 

“Okay so all you have to do is sign, the content is the same-”

“Surgery?” Steve blurted out, interrupting Tony who now wore a frown. Steve had cotton in his ears, he couldn’t focus on a word Tony was trying to say. 

“The content is the same as before, but if you’d like me to go through it again, we can do that. We have the room blocked out for the next three hours, but if we need longer, I can certainly make that happen-”

“What surgery?” If felt like there was a brick of ice within Steve’s gut, like his anxiety was frost that was spreading to his fingertips which were starting to shake. He couldn’t feel Bucky’s eyes on him, he couldn’t hear Natasha’s tapping anymore. He didn’t know if she’d stopped. 

“We are not going to talk about this right now.” Tony said it like it was decided and not up for discussion. In Steve’s experience,  _ anything _ was up for discussion if he wanted it to be. 

“Yes we are.” Steve protested, and oh the look he got from Tony was one he never wanted to see again. If Steve thought that Tony looked bad when he first walked in, it was nothing compared to the way Tony looked now. The weight the man held on his shoulders dropped, and he just looked so exhausted, so tired of dealing with Steve and his questions. 

“Just- Just sign the goddamn papers.” Tony tossed the three packets out. None of them moved to take it. Tony stared at them expectantly. “You didn’t come here to not sign it, just put your name on the line so this can be over.”

“I just want to know if you’re alright,” Steve tried again, one of his hands reached out, though Steve stopped himself and just rested it on the table instead. Quitely, Bucky took the packet and started flipping through it. It didn’t occur to Steve that Bucky hadn’t ever actually been introduced to the Accords, and therefore didn’t know what was behind that intimidating title page. 

Both Tony and Natasha’s gaze flickered to Bucky for a moment, Steve knew they were thinking the same thing, none of them had thought about the fact that this was a new experience for Bucky Barnes. 

“I’m fine.” Tony responded, a sudden calm expression sliding in place. The face he used when talking with the press, there was no denying that was the exact expression. Steve knew it like the back of his hand, they all had one, because they all had to deal with the public. Hands down, Tony’s was the best because he’d been crafting it to perfection since he was born. 

“Bullshit.” Nat snapped. “You just got out of surgery? How long ago?”

“Why does it matter.” Tony tried again, to shut the conversation down. It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it. Steve could remember a time when this conversation would’ve happened after a fight, when they were all still friends. It was easy to go back to that time, to think about this situation the same way he did the last one. That Tony was just being stubborn and reckless, it was just who Tony was. Now, Steve thought it was more about distrust instead of stubborness. 

“It doesn’t,” Steve mirrored Tony’s frown, ignoring Natasha’s glare. “It doesn’t matter how long ago it happened, the point is that it did happen and we want to make sure you’re alright.”

“ _ That _ doesn’t matter either.” Tony closed the briefcase with a click. “In fact, I don’t have to tell you anything about me or my health, I’m only here to give you these papers and make sure you sign it, and then you three can wander off to wherever it is you go when you’re not bothering me.”

“I signed it,” Bucky chimed in, though no one had actually seen him pick up the pen. They were all too focused on each other to do so. 

“Well, great. Glad to see  _ someone _ is cooperative today.” Tony threw up his hands like he was done with this whole thing, like he had nothing else left to say. Bucky gave a rather pleased half-smile and leaned back in his chair. It made Steve irritated that Bucky wasn’t on the same page as he was about this whole surgery topic. He’d never say so, though, Bucky didn’t need that. 

“When can we talk about your surgery.” Nat asked, leaning forwards with her forearms rested on the table like she was getting ready to guard herself from an oncoming attack. 

“Never.” Tony waved his hand to physically brush the topic aside, brushing it right into Steve’s lap. 

“Now.” Steve contradicted, earning him another good glare from Tony. “I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Then  _ don’t _ .” Tony snarled, words laced with deadly venom, even worse than a widow’s bite. Natasha leaned back in her chair. “Just sign.”

Steve stared at Tony for a long while, he heard as Nat scribbled down her name in handwriting that was more sloppy than she’d ever used before. He heard the pages slip and flutter as she returned the packet to it’s resting, closed up state, her signature trapped inside in ink. 

Still, Steve and Tony stared at each other, having a silent argument instead of a verbal one. Bucky refused to look up, Nat was watching the birds fly by out the window, waiting for this stand-off to be over. 

“It’s your chest, isn’t it.” Steve’s voice was small. 

“It doesn’t matter, Steve, I don’t-”

“Is it the Arc Reactor? Did- oh tell me you didn’t-” Steve began, but he couldn’t finish, his words cut out, his throat wouldn’t allow him to finish the sentence. Natasha was still, unmoving, staring out the window with all of her willpower.

Tony shut his eyes tight, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then, his hand moved to the center of his chest, his hand just rested here, in a protective gesture that STeve was all too familiar with. 

It was at that exact moment that Steve knew his suspicions were correct. Steve felt sick, the ice in his gut now turned to pure bile burning at the back of his throat. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what he  _ could _ say. Nothing he could say would make any of this better. 

Natasha’s tapping returned, a more rushed tempo than before. 

Bucky finally looked up, not coming to the same conclusion as the other two. Again, Steve hadn’t thought about the fact that Bucky didn’t know, he didn’t know Tony nor did he have any idea what an Arc Reactor was. Thankfully, Bucky didn’t ask; he saw the look on Steve’s face, saw that Steve refused to meet his eyes. Stormy-grey eyes drifted to Tony who’s gaze was stuck on Steve. Bucky then looked to Natasha who also refused to look away from the window, though at this point her gaze was unfocused and misty. 

Bucky looked back to his lap. 

“It doesn’t matter, I’m used to it. ” Tony tried, he tried to diffuse it, tried to explain that it was a part of him now, and it didn’t matter. He was too busy to let it stop him, which is why not even the hospital bed could keep him down. Not more than an hour ago, he slid a shirt gingerly over his head, getting help from a nurse because he couldn’t lift his arms. They didn’t know that he’d tucked his drainage tubes in his pants just to be able to get to this meeting. Tony Stark didn’t have time for recovery. 

“It matters, Tony. It matters.” Steve murmured, so quiet that Tony could barely hear him. Tony wished he  _ hadn’t _ heard him. 

“I don’t want to argue with you, Steve, but I don’t know why it matters to you. You’ve proven to me-” Tony began, but Steve wasn’t having it. 

“If you don’t want to argue with me, Tony, then don’t.” 

Brown eyes met blue again, and the stand-off continued. Neither one of them backed down, as usual, but this time there was less violence. 

“This is stupid.” Bucky finally spoke up after several minutes of strained silence. That, above everything, was the thing that cracked a smile out of Tony where Steve still stayed stoic. 

“Thank you!” Tony leaned back in his hair, if only to release the pressure in his chest. “Someone sees it my way.”

Steve shook his head, debating on telling Tony that Bucky didn’t see things anyone’s way. Bucky saw things his own way and that was it. Even if it was in agreement with someone else, that didn’t mean it was anyone’s way but his own. Bucky himself beat Steve to it. 

“Nu uh,” Bucky shook his head, reaching over now to physically grab Natasha’s hand and stop her from tapping like she was trying to play an invisible piano. Nat whipped her hand out of Bucky’s but placed it in her lap, effectively silencing the room. Bucky huffed. “I don’t see it your way. I see it my way. You  _ both  _ are being stupid. This whole  _ thing  _ is stupid.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want to argue about the Accords, but we do have the next three hours-”

“I’m not staying here for three hours.” Bucky grumbled. 

Steve had never seen Tony roll his eyes so hard. Well, that wasn’t true, he could compare it to the first time they’d talked about the Accords. It almost made Steve want to smile. 

“I’d stay here for three hours.” Nat spoke up for the first time in a while, and Tony rolled his eyes again. 

“You would.” Tony huffed, grabbing Bucky and Nat’s signed Accords and placing them neatly in the briefcase where they were locked away, safe from any changed minds. That was the last thing Tony needed. “Sign it, Steve.”

At this point, Steve didn’t care about the signature, he’d sign every paper that was put in front of him if it meant he could figure out why Tony needed the Arc Reactor again. He refused to believe it was because of him, though he couldn’t help but remember how violently he’d shoved the shield into the center of Tony’s chest. How he’d not been thinking that there was a man not made of iron, but of flesh and blood beneath. Now that he thought about it, actually thought about what he’d done to Tony, it was very likely that he’d needed surgery again.

Just thinking about it was enough to make Steve’s vision blurry. If he were standing, he was sure he’d be knocked right off his feet. 

“Don’t you  _ dare  _ throw up on me.” Bucky growled, scooting the rolling chair a couple inches away from Steve. In any other case, Steve would’ve poked and prodded at that statement, asking Bucky if he remembered the times when they were young and Bucky became very skilled at recognizing Steve’s sick face. At this moment in time, however, Steve couldn’t think about anything other than what lies beneath Tony’s loose T-shirt. 

“He’s not going to throw up.” Nat said, but her wavering tone suggested that she wasn’t sure and honestly Steve wasn’t either. His stomach was doing flips, his mouth growing dry, his hands shaking and going numb. Every breath was shallow and rushed, staccato gasps. 

“Are you  _ serious _ ,” Tony hissed. “You are  _ not _ having a panic attack right now.” Tony’s eyes traveled up and down Steve’s frame, stalling at his hands, his shoulders, his chest, his eyes. “You are. You are having a panic attack. Steve, I’m  _ fine. _ ”

Tony didn’t know how many times he had to say it, how many times in his life he had to convince everyone that he was fine. He wasn’t dead yet, was he? Anyways, he didn’t have much of a choice than to be fine at this point. Who else was going to do his work, who else was going to come in here with a fancy briefcase and make three people sign a single page? Apparently no one but Tony Stark. 

“I want to see it.” Steve forced out, voice thick with emotion. Three pairs of eyebrows shot up. Tony’s mouth opened, then closed and opened again. 

“You want to  _ what?” _ This meeting was not going as planned. “You want me to take my shirt off?”

“No, I just want you to lift it.” Steve said it like it was so simple, just an easy concept. Tony gave a bitter laugh. 

“I can’t lift it, Steve. Limited mobility here.” God, it hurt just for Tony to admit it, just for him to say that someone was the matter, that he was being affected by anything at all. If it were up to him, he’d have them thinking he was able to jump into a suit right now and fight with more pep in his step than normal. “Just sign the paper. Sign it and then we can all get out of here.”

Steve focused on that statement. Then pushed the packet away from himself. 

Tony’s nostrils flared and his eyes grew alight with rage. If he could hit Steve right now, he would. Tony looked from Bucky to Nat, one who still wouldn’t look up and the other who gave a helpless shrug. 

“Why did you come here, then. If you weren’t going to sign it.” Tony snarled, hands wringing together in his lap. 

“I’m going to sign it.” Steve clarified, “In three hours.”

There was a moment of pause and then a breathless laugh from Tony, a laugh that hurt but he’d never admit it. 

“You’re kidding. You’re not serious. You’re going to sit here and stare at me, shaking like a leaf, for  _ three hours _ .” Tony shook his head, though he wasn’t sure why he was even surprised at this point. 

“Yeah.” 

“I hate you.”

“I know.” It sounded sadder than Steve meant it to sound, but Tony didn’t seem affected by it. Steve didn’t know if Tony was hiding his emotions or if he was truly uncaring.

“What do you want from me, Steve? Tell me what I can do to make you sign those papers.” Tony leaned forward, resting his wrist on the edge of the table to keep himself steady. Steve took a couple of breaths to bring himself down from the muddled place his mind was at. The initial shock of knowing he’d caused Tony to need surgery had hit him hard, but Steve always found a way to recover. 

“I don’t know, Tony.”

“So why are we going to sit here for three hours. What do you  _ want _ .”

“I don’t know.”

Tony pursed his lips and leaned back again. Steve was so difficult, he’d always been so difficult. They weren’t getting anywhere, they were going in circles, and Tony hated it. There was a roadblock called  _ Siberia _ that none of them could get past. Communication was rough, it had always been rough, but this was a brand new low. 

“Let me ask you then, what  _ don’t _ you want.” Tony rephrased his question to hopefully be more digestible for Steve. Naturally, when Steve Rogers was asked what he wanted, his answer would never be something that benefited himself. That was perhaps why he couldn’t think of an answer this time, he didn’t know what he could say that would benefit the entire group. Steve was stuck. 

“What I don’t want...is to never see you again. I don’t want to not know if you had surgery complications or infections and I don’t...not want to be involved. I want to help you-”

“Nu uh, you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to feel like that. Not after-” Tony couldn’t even say it, he couldn’t even allude to it without feeling the shivers spread to his toes. Steve’s mouth shut with a click of his teeth. 

“But I  _ do _ feel that way...I do want to help you, I put you in this situation, I want to help.” Steve wasn’t going to move on his position, and it’s taken Tony until now to truly realize that. 

It wasn’t worth the fight this time, it wasn’t worth the argument. Honestly, his chest hurt too much to continue to argue, his throat felt like sandpaper, his ribs were scraping against metal with every breath. Maybe when he was healed, a little more recovered, he could spit in Steve’s face for wanting to care now.

“If I let you be involved, will you sign the damn paper.” Tony grumbled, defeated. 

“Yes.” Steve nodded, pushing the palms of his hands against his jeans to wipe the sweat off. Bucky glanced his way, recognizing the gesture, but he didn’t say anything still. Didn’t look up. 

“Fine.”

Steve reached for the pages, flipping to the last page. He glanced at Tony, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. It was enough to tell Steve that Tony wasn’t lying, that he’d let Steve in and let him help. Maybe now Steve could start to pay Tony back for what he’d done. Helping Tony through his recovery was honestly the least he could do after everything. 

Steve picked up the pen and signed his name. 

  
Tony took the packet, put it in the briefcase,  _ click _ , stood and left without another word. 


End file.
